


Exitium

by ButterflyGhost



Series: due South Wizard!Verse [34]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, due South
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-28
Updated: 2012-05-30
Packaged: 2017-11-06 05:04:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/414999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ButterflyGhost/pseuds/ButterflyGhost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The centre cannot hold.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Aestus Estus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victoria knows there's something about Kowalski.

At first I tolerate it, because it amuses me. Ben's little muggle has started coming to visit. I don't understand Ben's penchant for pets... but it's his thing. It's another little personal foible I can use against him. But it doesn't take long before I realise that this muggle is not a pet. Of course not... Ben would never treat a human so. He barely even treats Dief as a pet, and Dief's a mongrel. So, what is this muggle then? A friend. Yes, of course Ben would have muggle friends. All those neighbours of his knocking on the door, 'is he all right, is he any better, can I do anything...' It's like shooing away a flock of geese. And that boy Willie who walks the dog. Ben's practically drowning in muggles. He had a muggle mother after all. But it's only today, when I see him and Kowalski sitting together, talking, that I realise. It's a flash of insight, and I only notice it at all because Ben has been getting better. And he shouldn't be. I know that there's some other power working on him, pulling at him, like gravity tugging at the tide, but I don't realise at first what I'm struggling against. Then it hits me. The muggle. Every time that muggle visits, Ben draws away, comes into focus again.

I struggle at first to understand, then when I peer just the right way, I see it. An epiphany. There is only one possible explanation. Ben has kept another secret from me. This little muggle Kowalski is not a muggle at all.

It's only taken me a few days to realise it, and I know for a fact that most of my kind would never have thought to look for it, and not looking for it would not see it, unless it jumped up and bit them. But I can't congratulate myself for my insight. It had only taken me days, since I found them hand in hand, but they may yet prove to be a few days too long. Because this Kowalski, Ben's Ray, he fizzes. He buzzes when he walks. He's like a soda can, shaken up. Pop the lid, and he'll burst all over the place. And Kowalski mightn't know it, but Ben does, and I should have figured it out sooner. Before it got this far. I've only just learned the strength of the old powers, untapped and deeper than magic. Love and Hate, and everything in-between. But Kowalski, well, he's lived invisible powers all his life without having to learn them. If I'd known, I'd never have let him touch Ben. Because this wizard manqué has a power of his own. In his touch. And he's always touching. 

They're sitting at the table now, and Kowalski's trying to bring Ben back to life, talking about work, showing him case notes, and leaning across with his gangly body, and smiling his little boy smile, stretching out long fingers. Resting them on Ben's shoulder for a moment, brushing hands. And I swear, if I'd known the power in that man's touch, I'd have killed Kowalski where he sat, when I aparated in that first time and saw his hand in Ben's.

It's too late, I'm in a real fight now. My advantage is that Kowalski, even though he guesses on some level what's at stake, doesn't know who or what he is, what Ben is, what I am. Ben's started smiling again. I love his smile, as much as I hate to see it on his face, to see him happy. But it should be my smile to command. It shouldn't flower at a look from Kowalski.

“Don't you have a home to go to,” I ask, and Kowalski looks up, his eyes narrowing slightly, going wary.

“I'm just catching Frase up on some casework.”

“It can wait till tomorrow, I'm sure.” I glance at Ben, and smile. He smiles back, but not like he just did for Kowalski. It's a tight smile, one of his unsmiles, like he's in pain. Which I like, because oh, didn't he hurt me? But just once... I wish he would look at me like he looks at Kowalski. Like he did those first few days, before I really started to twist the knife. It hits me, we had something. We could have actually been happy... but I razed it to the ground, again. Like everything I ever touch. It's just over a month, and I've burned the whole thing down. There's only pain and ruin left. 

It will have to be enough. I can work with pain and ruin.

“You're going in to work tomorrow, aren't you Ben,” I suggest, knowing it will get rid of Kowalski. “You're looking a lot better.”

“I feel better,” he says, slowly, and scratches his brow. 

“Well, time to go back to work. I'm sure your partner here has missed you.”

Kowalski actually looks grateful, like he's taking me at face value. Ben looks... bewildered but relieved. Yes, and grateful too. For a dizzy moment I think to myself... maybe I could go back, maybe I could start to just... live again. Maybe I could still fix it, still make it work...

Kowalski puts his hand across the table, squeezes Ben's fingers. I stare at that damned hand, and hate it. Imagine a guillotine snapping down, and smile. Kowalski sees the smile, and just like Ben does, he misunderstands it. They're so infuriatingly innocent, both of them. Kowalski's probably thinking he's judged me wrong. He smiles back.

“Yeah, so I'll come by in the morning and pick you up for work,” he says, and Ben smiles again. And it hurts. The stupid men haven't even figured out what they mean to each other. Casual touch, spontaneous smile, innocent love. That should be my smile. My smile to crush, if I want to. 

And I can. I can crush it. Kowalski may be a healer, but I can destroy. And if I tear down Kowalski, I tear down Ben. 

Kowalski's grinning, practically bouncing as he heads out the door, bids us farewell. Hope. There it goes again, the final curse. I'm trying to plan what I'll do next, and there are too many ideas, too many delicious ideas... I've been planning this for so long, in the secret, in the dark. I don't even know yet what I'll settle on in the end.

But I do know one thing.

Ben should never have introduced me to his friend.


	2. carnaticum

I didn't know it would be the last time, but it felt like the first. That night, after Ray had left, I felt the familiar tension creep up on me, the hurt and need, but she... she was different. She smiled at me again. Like she loved me more than she hated me. I know, I always knew, that it was both with her. But that last night I thought... 

She touched me like she loved me, and it was like bones knitting together in the cast, mending. Like waking up after a fever broke. A healing hurt which dissolved into... just happiness. Just peace. I thought she was happy too. I thought things were getting better. 

I should have guessed then that she was setting me up.  
…  
…

Ray was there in the morning, and I was ready, and she kissed me at the door. Her lips were soft, her breath was sweet, and I felt like had everything. I had her, I had Ray, and I could feel myself coming back to myself.

He had the radio on as we drove to work. One of those repetitive three chord trick songs, with electric guitar and loud drums, and lyrics nobody can understand. His fingers were tapping on the wheel in rhythm, and I was so happy that I was actually enjoying the music, and before I knew it was singing along, making up my own nonsense verses. He laughed at that, and glanced across at me. Joined in. We were awful. By the time we got to the two seven we were both laughing hard enough that people were giving us funny looks.

“I see you're better, Fraser,” Elaine says, and flirts one of her subtle grins. I can't help it. I grin back at her, and it must have been some grin, because she falters, looks embarrassed, and unexpectedly giggles behind her hand like a school girl.

Oh dear, I think, I've got to get my head together, calm down. Just get back into a normal routine, a normal day.

There's paper work for that, a mountain of it. I could, of course, cheat and use a spell to zip through it. Nobody would notice after all, but instead I sit and type. 

“Jeez, Fraser,” Ray comments on my typing as often before, “you sound like a machine gun. How many words a minute is that?”

“I have absolutely no idea,” I quip, though I could in fact work it out if I had to. 

“Do you want an awful cup of coffee?”

“Absolutely,” and today starts to feel like a normal day. I'm coming down, but still happy, and I think, at this rate, I might be able to show my face at the Consulate, and attempt to make up for my conduct of the last several weeks. I'm not looking forward to explaining myself, but... I can always start again. Be useful again. Turnbull and Vecchio are good people, they can forgive me my indiscretions. I may need to undergo some... tests. Allow my mind to be read. Legilimens. Strange how that had seemed so impossible to me, so short a time ago. Anything is possible today. Anything can be restored, made whole. Yes, it will be painful, humiliating even, to have anyone in my mind... but I can tolerate that. I know that Ray Vecchio will be kind. He'll do his best to make sure it doesn't hurt too much. And, I'll do it. I'll make myself do it. So they can trust me again, so I can be a Mountie again, an Auror. 

There is nothing so bad that it can't be forgiven.

I realise that there's a war on, but today all I can think of is the fact that my heart is in my chest again, beating. And since last night, nothing hurts.  
…  
…

The call comes through just before we go to lunch. It's Victoria. “Ben,” she says, and her voice is shaking, “I need you and your friend to come and get me. There's someone after me... meet me, meet me at the zoo.”

“Who's after you?”

She sounds tearful. “Jolly,” she says, “Jolly's out.”

Oh Lord... the man behind the bank job.

“How did he find you?”

“He'll always find me. I've been seeing him for weeks, I thought I was just imagining him but...”

Oh Lord, I think, no wonder she's been... vicious. My heart goes out to her, but I can't help but be angry. “Why didn't you say?”

“I didn't want you to...” there are tears in her voice, “I didn't want you to hate me.”

Hate? How could I hate her?

“I can aparate,” I tell her, “I can be with you in a minute.”

“Don't, don't aparate. He'll smell magic. I'm using a public phone. He won't think of that. I need... I need to hide like a muggle. I trust you. I trust your friend. Please, meet me at the zoo.”

“Where?”

“Polar bear enclosure,” she says. “It's dark, please...”

“I'm coming,” I say, and put the phone down. “Ray,” I call him, “we have to go.”

…  
...

I fill him in on the way, though I obviously don't mention magic. I don't like having to take him into a potentially magical situation, but I'm sure that between Victoria and I, now that she has a wand again, we can protect ourselves and him. Jolly, after all, is not that clever. I'm surprised, when I think of it, that he could track Victoria. Perhaps he knew that I'd been visiting her, all those years. Word did get around, after all. Gossip about the Auror and the rogue witch. He must have put two and two together... 

Jolly I can handle, I think to myself. I just need to get to Victoria, help her to calm down. To feel safe. Then she can put this in perspective, and Ray need never see anything untoward.

Briefly I consider the fact that I'm still not thinking straight at all, bringing Ray along with me. But only briefly. 

Ray sees her before I do. I'm feeling dizzy and sick, for some reason, am rubbing my head when we come into the polar bear enclosure. He goes straight up to her. “You okay, Victoria?”

“Yes, yes... thank you for coming.” She's looking crunched up and afraid. The light from the tanks casts a ghostly light on her face. He moves to put his hand on her arm, and she flinches. 

“Sorry,” he says, “I didn't mean to...”

“It's okay,” she replies. “I'm just... scared.”

“We're here now,” I say. “Come on. We shouldn't be hiding in the dark. He won't want to be seen.”

It seems to make sense when I say it. She moves up close to me, huddles up to my side, and I put my arm around her. Ray comes up alongside, drapes an arm across my back, and we walk together, out of the shadows, into the light. Her hand strays across my waist, clutches Ray's shirt, and he drops his hand gently, takes hers. I feel... surrounded, and comforted, and...

I should have realised something was going wrong sooner than I did. But even despite everything, I was still so damned happy.

The first sign, he stumbles. I turn to look at him, and his face is pale. “Ray?”

“Something's...” he shakes his head, sinks to one knee. “Something's not right.”

Jolly, I think, Jolly's doing this.

I grab hold of him, and he starts convulsing in my arms. Victoria is standing behind us, and when I look all I can see is that her mouth is a little 'oh', of shock, so I believe. There are people looking. I can barely see them. “The Consulate,” I tell her, “phone the Consulate.”

She nods, and I hand her Ray's phone. Oh God, oh God, he's stopped fitting, and is going blue. I pinch his nose, and clear his airways, and then he's coughing into my mouth. His eyes are open, but they're blank. I hold him tight. He's breathing, I tell myself, the danger is passed. I can't figure out what magic this is. I'm feeling strange. He blinks, starts to come round. But as he does so...

Around me people are falling, in convulsions. I have a crazy thought, 'it's like a Pentacostal Revival meeting,' and good Lord, I'm laughing. I bring my fist up into my mouth to stop the noise coming out, bite my knuckles, but it won't stop. I've got tears in my eyes. Stop it, I think, stop it.

I manage to stop laughing, but I'm shaking. Shaking, and dizzy, and sick.

And... there's no sign of her. No sign of Victoria. And Ray is looking at me like he's never seen me before. 

Jolly's got her, I think, still believing her innocence. Jolly has become more powerful since we last met. He must have made some friends.

“What...” Ray's getting to his feet, looking at the carnage all around him, and I suddenly realise, there are too many of them. I'm still on my knees, can't even figure out how to stand, can't help all these people. They're choking. They're dying. And... I can't seem to smell the magic, it's like there's a veil over my senses. “What...” Ray is standing now, still white, but steady on his feet. “What's happening?”

“I think...” what can I say? I hate having to lie to him. “I think it must be some toxin, airborne maybe...”

“Is that why you were laughing?”

I look up at him, and blink, and, there's a surprise. I'm kneeling at his feet, and I feel tears on my face. “I don't know.” How can I tell him that I just felt out of control, crazy, like someone else had hold of me? And then I think, oh good Lord, then I think...

What if it was me? 

No... no...

All I can think is, we have to help them... I can't help them... “Ray,” I hear myself saying, as though it would do any good, “we've got to help them...”

And then Ray's holding people, touching people, and I swear, it's like a light is moving through his hands. He has to know this isn't normal, but he's just moving, from person to person. And some of them respond, and some of them... some of them will never move again.

But he's healing them. I can see that. He's saving more than he loses. And I see...

The light's pouring out of him too fast. He's going to kill himself if I don't stop him.

“Ray,” I lurch upward, stumbling, throw my arms around him and pull him back, pinion him. “Ray, Ray, Ray, Ray...”

He's crying, he's shuddering again in my arms as I force him to stop, he's struggling and pulling away, and then he drops, weak, boneless, and I'm looking at... looking at... looking at all the dead people, thinking, 'what did I do? What did I do?' Because it still hasn't crossed my mind, not for a moment, that it's Victoria.

I hear sirens, look up, and they're here. The muggle police, the muggle ambulance crews. Why aren't the Aurors here yet? I don't understand. And I lift Ray up, carry him to the nearest stretcher, damned well force my way to the front of the queue. “He's a police officer,” I tell them, knowing that will make them pay more attention to him. It's not fair, but I'll use it. 

I lay him down, find my hand stroking his forehead, touching his hair. The thought comes suddenly that I want to kiss him. My jaw clenches, and I retract my hand. He's looking at me, looking at me like he trusts me, like he fears me...

I can't stand that look. I turn my back on him, and walk away.


	3. Arcanum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Benny discovers Victoria's secret.

There he is. I knew that he would come. He’s still looking at me with that big eyed innocence, looking terrified, but not of me.

“Victoria,” he says, “I’m... what has Jolly done?”

“Jolly’s dead,” I say, and that’s actually true. He’s been dead a month. He had, in fact, tracked me, but even without my wand he was so easy to seduce, and so easy to betray. Fraser had come back that day from work, with that delicious wretchedness that I’d been nurturing in him, and it was so easy to kiss him into blindness, and hurt him into wanting more. He hadn’t a clue what was happening under his nose. I’d bewildered and befuddled him, and not a lick of magic in it. It did surprise me how long it took to tear him from his work though. The poor man can hardly have been thinking straight for weeks. 

I’ve been saving my magic, very sparing with it, because I’ve been planning this, or something like it, for so long. I wanted to make a splash, a real comeback. And I wanted to really, really hurt Ben. Finally strip him away from all his colleagues, destroy their trust in him, his trust in himself, to make him hurt. And he is hurting. For a moment I feel it again, that loathsome love that tugs at me, and it’s easy for me to use it against him. I step toward him, and he can see the love on my face. I let him see it, and he steps back.

“Was... was it me? Did I kill Jolly?”

Oh, that’s wonderful. That's just perfect. He truly doesn’t have a clue. He thinks he might be under an Imperius.

“I... don’t know.” I put a shaking uncertainty into my voice. His face whitens into anguish. I’ve really destroyed him. This shouldn’t be hurting me. But it is, so I let the tears fall. I’m going to make every damn thing count.  


"Victoria... I...”

“Don’t, Ben, don’t...”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t hurt me.”

He looks like I stabbed him in the chest. “It’s me, isn’t it? I did this.”

I choke out a sob, and step away from him. Then I turn, and fold myself out of time, away from him. Leave him to his colleagues. Leave him to realise that he’s got nowhere to run, but me.  
...  
...

I couldn’t move. I couldn’t move. I was never going to move again. What... what...

And I’m on my knees again... dropped, hamstrung, hugging myself and shaking. I’ve got to turn myself in...

No. I can’t do that. Because if I do, I'll fight them. I'll hurt them. And if they defeat me (dear God, let them defeat me) then they’ll read my mind. But... yes, I can put up with that. They won’t be gentle about it now, not after everything I’ve done, but I can put up with it, I have to... It will have to be Ray Vecchio. He's stronger than me. If I start to fight it, I could defeat most wizards, but Ray would be able to push through if I... if I... if I Iose myself.

But... no, if I do hand myself in, they’ll read everything. And this isn’t even about shame anymore; it’s not even about me. If they read my mind, they’ll read everything about Victoria, what we’ve been doing to each other for weeks, and even though I know she’s innocent, they won’t. They’ll see the dark mark on her arm, they’ll see me kissing it. 

Oh God, they might think that she’s the one who put the Imperius on me.

I can’t do that to her. They’ll put her away forever this time, they might even sentence her to the Dementor’s kiss.

NO. No... I can’t do that to her. I can’t hand myself in.

I have to run.

Where? Where can I run?

No. Not after her, please, not after her... what would I do if I hurt her? I hurt my Ray, my sweet Kowalski, and I love him. What if I hurt Victoria?

I’m still on my knees, still shaking, still trying to figure out where to run, where to go to destroy myself before I destroy anyone else, but... I can’t think. I can’t think.

There’s a hook in my heart. Oh God. There’s nowhere else to run. And... I won’t hurt her, I can’t. I know I won’t kill her. Not Victoria. I... I...

I lurch to my feet, pull out my wand, flash, in an instant, toward her.  
...  
...

I’m standing, smiling, wand out, watching it pour into the sky, my dearest sign. Mosmordre. The sky boils dark, and the light pours out, livid, green. I remember the Northern Lights, flickering on his features as we lay together, that first time, and his stonewalled face, as he turned his back to me, and kept himself chaste. He’s not chaste now. He’s addicted. I can feel that in every bone of him. The aurora borealis surges out, and my wand likes that. The shining hair plucked from its light sings as the sign pours through. This is... this is... this is everything it was the last time, in the first war, in the heat and flash of battle.

Oh, I love it. I missed it. It rushes through my body like an orgasm and paints the sky. The skull, the snake, the power of it. Fear. Fear flooding every magical mind in the city, driving sensitive muggles mad. Driving them to murder, to suicide, to rape.

For a moment I am appalled, but only for a moment. It’s not like I didn’t chose this. It’s not like I don’t love this.

I’m smiling, and I turn, and...

He’s standing there. A statue again. His face a blank again. And I realise... damn. I played my hand too soon.

He’s seen everything.

“I didn’t mean you to see that,” I say, redundantly. He says nothing. Well, too late, I think. He was going to find out eventually.

“Come,” I say, “come with me.”

He doesn’t move. I shrug.

“You’ll come sooner or later, whether you want to or not.”

He just stands there, like he’s been petrified. Marble. I gaze at him for a long moment, then turn, and shiver from his sight.


	4. Caelum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kowalski and Vecchio confer on what's happened to Fraser.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to SLWalker for all the ideas, advice, and the razor sharp edit.

What the hell... what the hell is going on?

I know I'm confused, probably tripping, or hallucinating, or... yeah, Fraser's right, this is probably some kind of chemical thing, dirty bomb, terrorist or something...

I had light coming from my hands, I was flooding myself out through my hands, I was...

What the fuck?

He pulled me away. He pulled me back and I thought, what, does he want these people to die? Doesn't he know that I'm trying to heal them, but... but what the hell was that all about? I can't heal people, what am I thinking? He was trying to keep me away from exposure, that's all. He was trying to save my life. And it worked. I'm alive. He carried me in his arms, he got me to the ambulance, and he... he touched my hair. I'm alive.

I sit up on the stretcher, and look around. I'm alive and... there are so many people dead.

I get to my feet, and normally there would be a medic or someone trying to make me sit still. But the medics are overwhelmed. They just had time to take my vitals, look into my eyes, figure out I wasn't the worst hurt there. There aren't enough ambulances, there aren't enough staff, there aren't enough damn cops.

And amongst the survivors, so many people weeping. So many people screaming...

That triggers a memory. Why was he laughing? I can't get that picture out of my head. Him laughing, with his fist in his mouth, and fuck, are his knuckles bleeding? Everyone else is falling in fits, and he's laughing. Doesn't much look like he thinks it's funny, but he's laughing just the same.

I'm... I've been sick. That's what it was. I was hallucinating, or misunderstanding, or something. Dammit, I'm a cop. I've got to do something, got to help.

I hold out my badge, and start making my way through the mess, trying to find someone in charge, to figure out what the game play is, how I can help, when I see him. Thank fuck. Vecchio. I try to speed up, start staggering like a damned drunk, but I get there. He puts his arms out, catches me. I'm still so fucking weak that I just drop my head on his shoulder for a minute before I can gather myself to talk. He has his arm around me, draws me away from the crowd. We walk right round where the penguins should be (and who knew penguins were masters at hiding? All the animals are laying low, you wouldn't think it was a zoo at all.) And there's a bench. Can you believe that? An ordinary bench... and trees surrounding us, and for a moment it's just like an ordinary day at the zoo.

Only, it's just us here, everybody else has gone. We might as well be the only people in the park, the only people in the world.

“You okay, Ray?” he asks, sitting me down. None of the teasing, none of that “Stan” crap. Not even “Kowalski.” I've caught my breath, look at him. Shit, the man looks wasted. Beat.

“I'm okay,” I say, even though, really, I'm not quite okay. At least I'm not dead.

“Where... where's Benny?”

“I don't know. All this shit went down, and he got me to the ambulance, and then he... well, he sort of...”

“Sort of what?”

There's no other way to put it.

“I suppose, it's like he sort of, well...” I see his retreating back, the look he gave me just before he left. Blank. Nobody home. “He kind of ran off.”

Vecchio's looking calm, if you can believe that, but he's doing that thing again, his nervous tick. Tapping the inside wrist of his right arm, like he's feeling for something. It sorta reminds me of something else, but today's a damned nightmare, and I'm trying not to...

Shit, I'm having paranoid flashes in my head, and now I'm looking at Vecchio and I don't trust him, because I don't remember... I do remember. Him and Turnbull at my crime scene, with fucking sticks in their hands... I'd thought they were sex toys or something, but then there was... oh shit. Magic? Why would I think magic? Not sticks in their hands, but wands. What? What the hell is wrong with me? Why am I thinking about wands and magic?

I'm breathing hard again, too hard. “Are you...” I hear myself saying, “are you and Turnbull...”

“What?”

“I... sorry, I think it's the... whatever it was. The chemical attack, I'm having crazy thoughts.”

“What kind?”

“Magic,” I say, and the damned word's out, and now he's gonna have the guys in white coats drag me off to the funny farm.

Only... he's not. He's not, is he?

“Shit,” I hear myself say, “shit. It's real.” And every crazy thing starts flooding back, and now I'm really scared. I stand up and start backing away.

“Ray,” he says, “it's not like that, it's not like you think.”

“Like what? What do I think?”

“You think I'm a bad guy. Yeah, you're right about the magic. I'm sorry, but you're right. I'm a... well, I'm a wizard...”

“Wizard,” it comes out a whisper. “You're a wizard?”

“Yeah... and so are you.”

“That's why...” I shake my head. “That's why my hands did that?”

“Did what?”

“They kind of glowed. When, when everyone started dropping.”

“Huh,” he looks impressed. “You're a healer.”

“A what?”

“A healer.” He's brisk, keeps going. “So, what happened next?”

“Fraser grabbed me,” I say, “he pulled me back.”

“He did?” Vecchio's looking real serious now. No, not just serious, for all of a split-second he looks scared. But just a split-second.

“No, not like that... he was trying to help me.”

“Help you? Did he try to help them?”

“I... I don't know. He didn't look like he could...”

“Look, Kowalski,” and we're back to business, I'm Kowalski again, “there is something you can do to help.”

“What? Anything. You know that.”

“Will you let me read your mind?”

“What, for real?” Stupid thing to say, of course it's for real. “I mean... how much do you need to read?”

“Just... I don't have a lot of time.” He sounds frustrated. “It will have to be just what happened here, the attack.”

I'm really dubious about this, but I scrunch myself up. “Okay...” I want to ask will it hurt, but I don't want to come across as a coward. And besides, if it helps us find Fraser before he gets himself killed or something...

“You'd better sit down again,” Vecchio says, and damn he's got a kind voice. I can see what Turnbull sees in him, and then I get really uncomfortable.

“Hey, if you see me and Stella having sex, just don't, you know... I mean, shut the bedroom door, okay?”

“No, that's not the kind of thing I'm looking for. Don't worry, I won't go further than I have to.”

Shit. I feel like a girl on the third date, standing at the door thinking, I wish I hadn't invited him in for coffee...

“Okay, get it over with.”

Vecchio stands, draws out his wand. Thank God nobody's around, or we'd look like real fucking weirdos. I realise now that's why he brought me here. Shit, the guy's good. Like he knew before I did that I'd agree to this crap.

Maybe he was just hoping.

He stands up close to me, closes his eyes. For a moment he looks really tense, like he's hurting or something, and he's grey with fatigue. His face goes peaceful, like that fat Buddha Stella had on her bookshelves when she was first studying law. Before she decided to give up childish things. (Like me, I think, and force the thought away. I don't want him hearing that one.) I close my eyes, and tense up, and he says... leji, lejo... what? Whatever it is, he says it, and then it's like he's touched me. I let him touch me...

“Oh,” I say, and feel myself settling. It's not as invasive as I thought. Damn, he's being gentle. I wonder do he and Turnbull do this kind of thing a lot, and blush, because he has to have heard that.

“Don't worry,” he says, and I don't know if it's in my head, or if he said it out loud.

Now there are images rising in my mind, and he's sorting them, shifting them. Like he said, he's not prying. He's not digging around in there for my deepest secrets, like what I think about Fraser when... ah, he did see that one, because it was so clear in my head, but he's kind. He turns away.

And we see together, Fraser white faced and laughing, with his fist in his mouth. And we see him wrestling me away from the people I'm trying to help. And we see him at the ambulance, after he's put me on the stretcher, touching my hair, and that look in his eyes, just for a moment. And I know Vecchio can feel it, what I'm feeling. I'm not even ashamed of it. So I love him. So what? And then Fraser's face goes corpse white, and he's looking at me, like a dead man, and we watch together as he turns and walks away.

I know what Vecchio's thinking. Of course I do, he's in my head.

“It's not like that,” I hear myself saying, and I know I'm talking out loud. I'm not used to this, communicating by thought alone. “Fraser didn’t do this. He's not a murderer.”

Vecchio gently withdraws and looks at me, and the expression on his face is just so damned miserable I could cry. Just for a moment. How the hell does he do that? Make himself so calm? It hits me that I actually am crying, or I have been. Tears are tickling my nose and chin. God, Fraser... “It might not be his fault,” Vecchio says, and we're talking like normal people again. He sits next to me on the park bench, like nothing weird just happened. “He could be fighting it.”

“Fighting what?”

“Imperius. It's one of the Unforgivable curses. Someone could be forcing him to do this.”

Victoria, I think. I bet she's a witch. For a minute I think she might have put an Impo, Impy... whatchamacallit on him, then I think, no. Damn that for a fucking lie. Yeah, she's had her claws in him for fucking weeks, and yeah he's been walking around in a daze since she got here, but no way, no fucking way, anyone could make Fraser do anything like this.

“It's not Fraser,” I say, “it's that damned woman he's shacked up with. She's got to be the one behind this.”

Vecchio tilts his head to one side, scratches himself on his bald patch. Whoa, fuck... it hits me that he doesn't know about Victoria. “His girlfriend,” he says, casual like.

“Don't you know who she is?” I'm angry at that, and fold my arms across my chest. Jeez... haven't they been paying any attention? “I mean, if you guys have some kind of a war on...” I blink. Suddenly I know about the war. It's bled across from Vecchio's mind into mine when we did that Vulcan mind meld thing of his. Shit. There's a fucking war on. “I mean, there's a war on,” I say, “didn't you think to, I dunno, check who he's going out with?”

Vecchio looks at me, and doesn't say anything. I suppose he's got to be careful what he says to people, but he should know he can damn well trust me.

“Yeah? Well, if you don't, I can tell you who. Victoria Metcalf.”

He sort of freezes for a moment, like it's news to him. Not that anyone else would pick up on it, but I sort of feel like I know him a bit better now. I see him thinking that it was Victoria who put the Imy thing on Fraser. But damn, he's good. If I didn't know better I'd think he had ice water in his veins, he's so good at keeping it all in.

“Hey, I'm telling you, it's not Fraser.” Damn, I'm doing all the talking, he's gonna think I'm under a spell at this rate, a love spell or something. “I don't care what she did, he wouldn't...”

I stop talking. The air was going cold, and the sky... the sky...

It was like everything was bleeding backward. Darkness was boiling, and spreading, and the damned world was going black. Light being sucked out of everything through a funnel, and the sky... the sky...

“Oh God,” I whisper, looking at the sky. My hands claw up and clench, and I'm grasping the bench till my fingers go numb. “Oh God...”

There's a skull in the sky, glowing. A poisonous sick thing, vomiting a... vomiting a... a snake. Skull and snake are leering, and my hand goes sideways, and I clutch Vecchio's arm. He brings his other hand over, and pats mine, reassuringly. It's sort of, I dunno, a silly gesture, like I'm a kid, but it makes me feel a tiny bit better. “Don't look at it,” he says, and his voice has kind of drifted, gone numb, like he's remembering something. His hand is cold.

I swallow, and close my eyes, but that's worse, because I can still see the damned thing behind my lids. I open them, and look at anything but the sky. “I've got to go,” I say, “find Fraser.”

“You can't do that,” he says, “even if you want to. You never learned magic... and for once I'm glad. You don't want to be anywhere near Fraser. Not the way he is now.”

“I've gotta help.”

“You can help. You can help the police. You can help the ambulance crews. They need all the men they can get.”

I nod, and he's not in my head, so he doesn't know I'm lying. “Okay,” I say, “I know when I'm out of my depth. I'll go and help with the clean up.”

He's relieved. I'm one less thing for him to worry about now. “Good, good...” he's looking sickly green in this horrible light. “I'm gonna... I'm gonna go find Benny.” And he stands up, and it's like he does this pirouette thing... and he's vanished.

Nothing surprises me any more.

And I get to my feet, and I close my eyes, and I think... fuck it. I might not know magic, but I know Fraser. And... fuck. I'm gonna find him, if it kills me.


	5. Tenebrae

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vecchio tries to bring Fraser in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by a wonderfully evocative conversational snippet written by kalijean.

By the time I catch up with Benny I'm exhausted. When I finally do see him I note, irrelevantly, that he has at least bothered to get dressed this time before heading out the door. It's ghastly to see him in his uniform, like this. There's no one else in sight. The whole zoo is being evacuated, and even the animals are lying low. That's good. It has to be good. Because things could get ugly. They've gotten ugly. I close my eyes for a moment, and try not to see what happened to the polar bears. You'd think it would be the people who flashed upon my memory, but I've been seeing so many dead people. I'd thought I was numb. But this, the tank full of blood, the great beasts... viscera. Guts displayed, flayed, twisted inside out, floating in the cloud of red. I don't want any more casualities. God, that little girl... pigtails, holding her teddy bear, still, wide eyes that will never see again. I'm not numb. Numb would be a mercy.

And if Benny is still in there somewhere, well, I'm guessing he doesn't want any more blood on his hands.

He is, he is in there. I know it. 

He's not doing anything. Just standing, staring bleakly at the sky. He looks like he's put roots down through the concrete. His hands are hanging slack at his sides, and the tip of his wand is tucked into his sleeve, nudged forgotten against his curved palm.

And then there's the sky. 

Crap. Oh, crap. 

Oh, Benny.  
…  
... 

 

"That what I think it is?" 

Ray Vecchio aparated in with a sharp pop a moment ago. I didn't even flinch. I should be running, but...

The casual tone of his question is, I am well aware, very carefully put on. 

"Yes, Ray." 

"Who, uh," Ray pauses, squinting at the spectacle in the sky, before he finds the rest of the sentence. "You see who did this?"

"No, Ray." 

I know that Ray knows I'm lying, and I even know what Ray is probably thinking. What he has to be thinking. But I just can't bring myself to... betray her again. I'm feeling sick... I realise that I am about to vomit. I turn quickly on my heel, begin walking fast, trying to put distance between myself and Ray, but he follows, drops his hand on my shoulder. Damned stupid thing to do, if I was a traitor, or under the Imperius. I turn and open my mouth to say so, puke instead. Ray flinches, takes a step back. The muck lies between us. Distantly I'm thinking, 'I've ruined another pair of his good shoes.' I wipe the back of my hand over my mouth and swallow, try to pretend that nothing happened.

“I'm sorry, Ray, I have to find Dief.” I'm lying. “He ran when...” 

Dief's not here, never was... maybe Ray knows it. I have to tell him something. Can't tell him that I'm running after her.

“When what,” Vecchio says, gentle, and I recognise what he's doing. He's soothing me, as I might whisper to a frightened pony. He's trying to get closer to me, to... “Fraser, what did you see?”

“Nothing.” I keep his wand arm in my peripheral vision. Watching for any sudden movements. “I saw nothing.”

There. He flicks his wrist, cries out the spell. "Stupefy!" But I'm faster than him, and that tells me something... how tired he is. Because good as I am, under normal circumstances I could never dodge this man. The spell whizzes by me harmlessly, and before he has a chance to gather himself for another attempt, I twist, I turn, I'm gone. Blinking out of sight.

And I can feel her, somewhere. In the dark. Under the dark sky she's poured out over us all. It's as though we're in the snow again, in the storm. We're still connected, somehow, and I can follow her. I maybe didn't do this, but it's still my fault. Because of what I did to her, what I didn't see, what I let her do to me... I have to find her. I have to find her.

I follow her blind.


	6. Infidelius

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ray and Benny find each other, and Victoria finds them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to SLWalker for the incredible addition of the storm, and a really tight edit on the Ray segment.

I know I should leave the scene of the crime, but... I haven't finished yet. There are reasons. Ben will find it harder to follow the thread of his longing if I'm in a crowd. I can feel him, in pursuit, but I can tangle him, I can tie him, I can trip him up. He's my prisoner... has been for years. And he never even noticed when the chains went on.

I continue on my way, holding everything in, for now, tamped down, locked tight. Leaving as light a trail as I possibly can, just in case. The disillusionment charm comes to me with such ease I can do it wandless. He won't see me until I need him to. I'm looking for Ben's 'not muggle,' for his Kowalski. Unlike me he doesn't have any ability to hide himself. The fool doesn't know that he needs to. He shouldn't be hard to find, even amidst this sea of human suffering. He's been bleeding light, I can feel it as I walk through the aftermath of... carnage. 

I school my smile. The muggles can't see me, and if I allowed them to I would be just another person wandering dazed through the crowd. It's surprisingly easy to go unnoticed, even without magic, and I play with the idea of trying it. I could tie my hair back, twist it into a tight bunch, hide the curls. It would be so easy to slump a little bit, to walk like one of these shambling muggles, stunned and stupid. But no. I can't afford to play. That can come later, when the Dark Lord reigns.

I fold my arms loosely in front of me, and lightly tap the wand that is concealed in my right sleeve. She's tender to my touch, such a sweet and slender thing. I'm glad, suddenly, that she's a new wand. The core is the same, but she came to me so pure. It's a joy to corrupt her. 

I spot Kowalski. He's coming from the trees. What's he been doing there, I wonder. I would have expected him to be here, tending to the wounded. It's obvious that he has been here, there are far more survivors than I would have liked. This is still bad enough. Ben is now completely stripped away from his network of friends, colleagues. Even his family will never trust him after this. His father, perhaps, but his father's dead. And Ben can't even see him any more. I've made sure of that. The only one who might still get through is...

Kowalski. Of course. He's looking for his Fraser. I raise an eyebrow, interested. He seems completely unschooled in magic. How can he hope to find Ben in the middle of this? 

Ah, I think. An old power. Of course. Love. He's standing with his eyes closed, and it's not just because he's seen my beautiful stain on the sky. He looks like he's listening. Listening for his lover. Even if they've never said it to each other, that is what they are. My lips curl up bitterly. It still rankles that Ben hid this from me, even though he also hid it from himself. I had thought that I had all of him, but there were deeps even deeper than I had plumbed. Well. Let them love each other. What I plan will only hurt more in the end. And I'm smiling again, just a little smile, inside.

Kowalski opens his eyes, starts moving. Interesting. I know that I could find Ben in a heartbeat if I wanted to, but it's Kowalski I've been tracking. And then to find Kowalski tracking Ben... I didn't expect that. I'll follow the man, then. When we come to some quiet place, I'll drop my disillusionment, and Ben will be with me in an instant. And to have them both together... oh, it will be delicious. To have the whole wizarding world believe that Benton Fraser killed Ray Kowalski... He will never be forgiven that. Not by anyone. Not when they see what I plan for Kowalski. A terrible, terrible death. And Ben... 

For a moment I wonder what he will do. He might, I suddenly realise, turn against me. It might be the blow that breaks our connection. That thought sends panic writhing through my heart. I hate Ben, but, I love him, and I can't be without him. I'm doing this for him, for us, so that he has nothing left, nobody left, nobody to turn to... So that I can have him, at last, body and soul.

Body and soul. I've had him, I realise, body and soul, for over a decade. Since he held me in the snow, shielded me from the storm with his body and his magic. Since he took my fingers in his mouth to keep them from freezing. I calm down. I'm worrying about nothing. He knows about the attempted love spell, but he never knew about the snare. He was barely conscious at the time, as I wove my poem around him and through him. No, no... Ben will never get away from me now. I remember him, when he kissed my dear mark, the words that fell from his lips. “I love you, Victoria. I'll never leave you.” And he does love me. It's real love, all the more precious because I didn't compel it. Oh yes, I've befuddled him, but the love is real. He won't abandon me. He can't. He never will.

I follow Kowalski, and yes... yes. He leads me right to him.  
…  
...

 

I'm in another one of those parky bits, and it's like I can feel him. Not like he's here, but like he's gonna be, if that makes sense. Which it shouldn't, but maybe it's this magic whatsit. Maybe it's just my own fine-honed cop instincts. What do I know?

 

And I'm right. Oh God... Fraser. He just lurches out of nothing, kinda makes a popping sound and he's there. Staggers, looks round him, sees me and freezes. He's got his fists clenched together at his chest, you know, the way little kids do when they pray, only his wand is sticking up between his hands, like it's a dagger he's just pulled out of his gut. He's lost his hat, and there's something splattered on his tunic. For a minute I'm scared it's blood, but I'm close enough that I smell it. Jeez. It's sick... he must have just thrown up.

“Fraser!” It comes out a yell. I dunno why, except the winds are kicking up and the sky's black; at least it lost that sickly green, though, I guess maybe that evil thing went away. At least one evil thing has.

He's looking damned terrified, so I drop my voice. “Fraser,” I say, and step toward him. He's staring at me, shaking his head.

“No, Ray, no...”

“I'm not gonna hurt you.”

His voice cracks, and even with the wind whipping against the tree, I hear it. “I might, I might... I might hurt you.”

God. God, Frase. The words jar me, and I wrap my arms around myself for a second before snapping, “For fuck's sake, Fraser, don't you do that shit with me, too!” Now I'm fucking pissed. Fraser's believing this bullshit too? Even if he believes it, even if the whole damned world believes it, I'll never believe it. Not till I see it with my own eyes, and even then... “You'd never hurt me!” And goddammit, now my voice is cracking, too.

He looks at his wand like it's a snake, drops it at his feet, stumbles away from it. I flash to a regular cop scene, 'hands in the air, drop your weapon.' He's dropped his weapon, he's actually scared he might use it. Hasn't he met himself? Jeez, what must be going through his head right now? He's stammering, “She, she, I...”

Keep cool. Keep cool. I feel the rain start down in heavy, wet drops, and I want it to wash away all of this. All this fucking hurt. All this fear. Keep cool, Kowalski, keep cool, he needs you to keep it together. I put on my calm voice, my reasonable voice, holding my hands out. “Look, Fraser, I know everything. I know about the war. I know about the magic. And I know you. I know you. You'd never do anything to hurt me. Frase, I've seen you stop to pick snails up off the side walk. Like you'd do any of this shit. It wasn't you.”

“I'm... not sure...” He starts blinking really hard, the rain coming down harder, flattening his hair. His face goes even tighter, God knows how. “I don't know who I am any more.”

“What do you mean you don't know who you are? You're you.” I say it with all the heart I got behind it, I swear.

“I think...” he sucks in a deep breath, and you can see he's struggling to talk. Like, you know at a car crash, when the victims or witnesses are all shocky and forget how to talk right? Like that, only he's still Fraser, and he's really really trying to hold it together, to make sense. “You know,” he says, and grimaces, “you know about the magic. About our world. Do you know, do you know...” he closes his eyes, and gets it out, “do you know about the curse?”

I blow it off. Kinda. 'Cause I sure don't believe it. “That impy thing Vecchio was on about? Yeah. And I don't give a fuck, even if she stuck it on you, you didn't do any of this.”

“I can't, you shouldn't, I'm not... not to be trusted.”

“Look, you come with me, we'll get you to the Consulate, they can fix this. We'll fix this. Vecchio does this mind meld thing, he can read your mind, you know... find out what really happened.”

“No.” He blurts it out, sudden, and real loud, and with... not fright but anger. For a minute he's white, and blazing, and fucking angry, and I think, shit, he really is under the curse. But then he drops his head, and looks so fucking ashamed. Rain drips off his hair. Thunder rumbles.

I take another step, and he tries to move away, only he staggers, hits up against the tree, starts to slide down. I grab him, and pull him to me. He starts struggling, tries to push me away. I've got my arms around him, and he must be fucking whacked, because I'm stronger than him. He stops struggling then, and just sags in my arms, and I'm patting his head, and... yeah, stupid, I'm so stupid in love. I can't believe I'm thinking this, but he feels like he fits.

“Come on, come on, come on, Frase,” I'm whispering against his face, nothin' but the sound of rain and wind around us; no more curses, no more screams, no more dying people, just him, just me, and the rain. “You're all right. It's gonna be all right...”

And for a minute, a whole minute I'm holding him, a whole minute where the rain is washin' away all this wrong, I really start believin' it too.

And then it ends.  
…  
…

I don't know how this happened, how he got here. He's not supposed to be here. He's supposed to be in an ambulance. Last time I saw him he was... he wasn't even ambulatory. Now it's my turn. My legs are turning to jelly, and I can't even stand up straight. And he's holding me, and if I could cry I'd be weeping on his shoulder, but there are no tears in me. It's just the rain. 

“It's gonna be alright,” he's saying, and oh, Ray, I want to believe you, I do so want to believe you. His skin is bristle rough against my cheek, and I can feel his pulse jumping in his throat. I bury my head in him, and hear myself groan. It's as though we were made to hold each other, and how did I miss this? How did I not see... “It's gonna be alright,” he says, and I believe him.

And then, oh God, her voice. Her sweet voice.

“It's not going to be all right,” she says.

Victoria.

Somehow I manage to pull myself up. I lean backward against the tree. Ray's still standing in front of me, arms around me like a fortress. As though he thinks he can shield me from her... and I'm wandless. What was I thinking? I threw it down. My eyes dart to the ground, and I see it has rolled beneath a shrub. I look away, so she doesn't follow my eyes to the focus of my attention. But when I look at her I see her pinion gaze and realise that she's only interested in...

Oh. I see how this looks. Ray and I in each other's arms. For a moment I feel compelled to push him away, but the truth is... I don't want to. This is exactly what it looks like. A moment ago there was nothing in the world for me, but now there is him. My own, my Ray. I realise the danger he is in, and spin him round, so that he is up against the tree, and I am his shield, his fortress. He struggles, but I force him back, crush him with my weight. Nothing on God's green earth is ever going to take him from me now. There is steel in my spine again. I'm drawing strength again... from somewhere. From the ground beneath my feet, the roots of the trees. From the driving of the rain. From him.

She walks around the tree, so that she can see me better. “You and your muggles,” she says, and smiles, fondly. “Only he's not a muggle, is he?” Her tone reminds me of Ellen, exasperated and affectionate. 'You're always coming home with a stray, Benny,' she would say, 'we're not an animal sanctuary.' Oh, Victoria, do you have to remind me so much of everyone I ever loved? 

“Don't touch him,” I tell her. I know we look like lovers about to kiss, and I know that I sound like I'm pleading, but it's not because I'm afraid of her. I'm afraid for her, for him. “Please, Victoria, don't do this.”

“Oh, I shan't touch him.” Her voice is tender, like it was the night before, when she touched me, when she loved me. I squeeze my eyes shut, and try to exorcise the memory, but it will not be expunged. “I shan't touch him, Ben.” Oh Lord, I think again, her beautiful voice... “When they find him,” she says, with the gentlest tones, “the whole world will know that you did it to him.”

Oh God, no, I think, she really did, she really did place an Unforgivable on me. And... I should be angry with her, but maybe it's the curse, maybe it's something else... I simply can't hate her for it. My whole heart floods with pity, and I open my eyes, and just gaze at her. Drink her in. She looks so... pure, washed clean and childlike in the rain. But then she sees the pity, and her face twists. I recognise that look. It's a razor. Love, and hate, and the whole black chasm in between. We've been living in it for years. I brace myself for her to use the curse against me, to try to force me. I won't go down without a fight. I won't hurt Ray. I'll die first. But there's nothing. She does nothing. And for a stupid hopeless moment I hope...

“Victoria,” I say, and my voice is shaking, “I know you didn't mean this. I know you've been compelled...”

“Oh,” she starts laughing, and all hope dies. “Oh, you idiot. Of course I meant this. How else can I bind you to me? I don't want to drug you with an Imperius. I'm not like you, I don't want pets. I want you.”

“How,” and I hear my voice, finally, deepening with anger, “how could you imagine that all this...” I gesture with my chin, “all this could possibly persuade me to stay?”

“You don't understand yet,” she said, “I didn't do this for the Dark Lord. Not only for him. I did this for us, for you.”

I realise then what I have done. The years, all those dark years in prison, surrounded by death eaters, her whole soul abraded day after day... she's gone mad. 'Look what you did,' a voice says in my head... my own voice, a little Benny voice. I'm a child again, in my head. 'Look what you did,' the child says sadly. 'She said prison would destroy her, and we didn't listen. We've driven her mad.'

I'm frozen in the moment, and Ray feels it. He gives a rough shove, and I reel away from him, slipping in the mud. “No, Ray... don't...”

And Good Lord if Ray isn't the bravest man I ever met. He steps right in front of me, right in front of her, and tries to block me with his body. No magic, completely unprepared, and ready to die for me, despite everything...

She smiles, draws out her wand. I see it in her eyes, what she's about to do. As her mouth opens to speak I hurl myself at Ray, a football tackle. He rockets to the floor, and it hits me instead. The word is out of her mouth.

“Crucio!”


	7. Facit saltus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A jump in the dark, and a gunshot.

Each jump is harder than the last. I know I'll be lucky if I find him, I'm only guessing, after all, that he's still in the neighbourhood. For all I know he could have apparated to the North Pole. But I know Benny... he didn't look strong enough. So, I've been doing it cop style, apparating in a grid pattern, hoping I'll get lucky. I'm almost certain now, from the way he was, that he's had the Imperius put on him, probably by that Victoria woman, if what Kowalski said is right. He's gonna be trying to avoid people, trying not to get in a position where he might hurt someone. So I'm jumping to unpopulated areas. And damn, I feel guilty for not looking out for him more. But, God, there's been no time. Ren and I, we hardly get to sleep. Shit. I'm making excuses. I let Benny down, and I've got to find him. But it's hard. It's taking me longer and longer to recuperate between each leap.

I look up at the sky, dropping rain at last, washing away the stench and the stink, and my heart clenches. Ren, I think, Renny's work. It could, of course, be any Auror, but I look to the heaven, and I know it's my Ren.

God, I miss him. We're fighting so close together, and I still miss him. It's all battle, and then exhaustion. I just want to hold him, not like we're drowning. I just want to cradle him...

Shit, keep it together Vecchio. I shake my head hard. Wake up. I close my eyes, finger my wand. Breathe, breathe, focus... settle.

There. I feel enough strength returning that I can make another leap. Please God, let him be there this time. Please...

I brace myself. Turn, mutter, twist and...

I'm there. When I hear the gunshot I think at first it's the sound of my arrival, but it's too hard, too sharp... and damn it, I'm not just a wizard, I'm a cop. And that's a gun. I know that. Not just the noise... the smell. Firework smell curling in the air. Whoever fired, they're close.

I turn to the source of the noise, and that's when I see...

Oh, Jesus.

At first I'm so shocked that the only thing I see is Benny, hovering in the glow of the curse. Then I see her, wand out, and face bitter, and she's damned well crucifying him, he's bent backward, like she's trying to break his spine, and his arms are splayed open, and...

He's fucking bleeding. What the hell curse is this? Because I've seen this curse before, and it's a monster, it's Unforgivable, but I've never seen anyone bleeding from the chest...

And then I think, gunshot, and I turn my head and...

Oh God. Kowalski. He's standing there with the gun in his hand, and he's starting to shake. I step toward him, quiet as I can, put my free hand on top of his outstretched arms, and gently move his hand down, and away. He drops the gun. Turns to me, turns to Benny, then looks at the woman, and... 

I didn't know he could hate so much. The look on his face. Poor bastard. He aimed at her, and missed...

She smiles, and releases Benny. He drops, like a sack, to the floor. My wand is already drawn, and wearily I raise it, point it at her, gather everything I have in me to pull her down. But she's gone. Oh fuck. I'm useless. I couldn't find Benny in time, I couldn't stop her... what fucking good am I?

Kowalski's dropped to his knees, and his hands are glowing on Benny's chest. “Hey,” I say, warning him, “the bullet might still be in there. You don't know what you're doing, you might make it worse.” I imagine him healing around the bullet, sealing it in, burying it in scar tissue, where it could fester and ache for years. But Kowalski doesn't look like he can help himself. He's zoned out, not hearing, and the light in his hands is getting brighter. You coulda felt the heat off 'em a mile away. And I can see how damned drained he already is. It flashes on me, all of a sudden, this is why Ben tackled him, why he stopped him from healing those people. Kowalski's not been trained. He doesn't know how to turn it on, to turn it off. He's gonna kill himself if I don't stop him.

I don't have time for this. I don't even have time to apologise for what I'm about to do. 

“Stupefy,” I say, and he falls, the light in his hands fading, his strength, mercifully, flowing back into his own body. He's lying alongside Benny in the mud, and they look like what they are. Brothers in arms fallen in the trenches.

I'm going to do whatever I can to save them both.

Benny's my first priority. Kowalski's only sleeping. Benny could die, any minute now, if I get this wrong. Shit, shit, shit... I can hear a sucking noise, irregular. Benny's pale as paper, and even against the red of his serge, even in the darkness of the storm I can see the spreading of the blood.

“Lumos,” I say, and raise a little light. Every charm costs me right now, but I need more light. Ben always has a knife in his boot. I pull it out of its holster, use it to cut through the fabric of his tunic, expose the wound. Sucking wound to the chest. I hate having to do this, because it's gotta hurt, but I roll him to his good side, look at the back, look for an exit wound. 

Fuck. No exit wound. The bullet's still in there. Thank God I stopped Kowalski before he healed Benny to death. I lay Benny back down, and if it wasn't for the blood pumping out of him I'd think he was dead. But there's so much blood that at least I know his heart's still beating. But that noise, that sickening noise. I've got to stop the suction. I pull out a handkerchief, scrunch it up in my hand... and this shouldn't be so fucking hard. It's a simple transfiguration... I could do this when I was nine.

There. That's what I need. Sticky, viscous, malleable. It's even sterile. And I'm shaking, I don't know how much I've got left in me.

I press the sticky material to the open wound. Seal it on three sides. When he breaths in the suction closes the wound so that air isn't sucked in, putting pressure on the lung. When he breaths out excess air is able to escape through the unsealed edge. It's the best I can do. 

I hear footsteps, slapping through the mud. Looking over my shoulder I see them come. Muggle cops, at a distance. Among them I recognise Huey. They'll be here soon. I look down at Kowalski, and think, this is going to look bad for him. I pocket the gun. I'll worry about the bullet later. Damn... I don't know how I'll find the time, but I'll think of something. I cast my eyes about for anything else that might be incriminating, and then I see it, in the guttering light of my fading lumens. Fraser's wand. “Accio wand,” I whisper, and there's enough in me that it flies to my hand before my little light goes out. I tuck it up my left sleeve, and stand.

One last thing to do. I look at him, Kowalski, covered in Fraser's blood, and puke, and mud, and there's only one thing I can do. Because if he remembers that he shot Fraser it's going to crucify him just as surely as that woman... Victoria? Just as surely as she crucified Fraser.

It takes it out of me, but I get it done. The energy pours through my hand, and I point my wand at Kowalski. How many damned times are we gonna have to do this?

“Obliviate,” I say, and sway on my feet. 

Then Huey's made it through the mud, and he's kneeling next to Benny. He looks up at me, and I've tucked my wand away. Both wands. Mine and Benny's.

“You see who did this?” The question shocks me. It's what I asked Benny, not an hour ago, when he was standing beneath the dark mark. 

I give the same deceitful answer Benny did. “No,” I say. Huey looks at me, trusting. “I found them like this.”

How many lies am I going to have to tell before this war is done?  
…  
…

It... hurts. Everything, everything hurts. Why does it hurt? I think my eyes are open, but I can't see. She's in my head, walking around in there, but it's not really her, it's not really me. Where... where... Ray. Where's my Ray? 

Oh God, it hurts.

Voices. 

“Do we know how long they've been like this? When was he shot?”

“I heard the shot,” that's Vecchio's voice, “it's been about ten minutes.”

“What about the other guy, what happened to him?”

“I found them like this, the shooter musta hit Ray and...”

Hit Ray. Someone hit Ray. Who hit him? Was it, was it her?

My mouth is moving. I'm trying to speak, but I can't get the noise out. The pain is... it's in my breath, it's in my chest. Every breath, God, it's like I'm being stabbed again and again, but...

It's better than what she did to me. For an instant I feel it again, hear her word like a slap, “crucio...” And she didn't mean it for me, but once she had me, once she had me... she just poured it out, and...

Ah, God, I'm trying to scream, but I can't, the pain in my chest won't let me.

Ray, Ray, she hit my Ray. My eyes are open and I can see. There's Vecchio, leaning over me, I think he's holding my hand. And, and I'm moving, stretcher, I'm on a stretcher... and... 

“No,” I mouth at Vecchio. There's no noise, because I don't have the breath for it, but he sees what I'm saying. He must see it in my eyes. Not hospital. Not a muggle hospital. Please...

Where's my wand? I see it, in my head, rolled under the bushes. If I could breathe I'd be screaming. Someone's going to take my wand. It... oh please no. If a muggle finds it, it could go off in their hands. I've done enough, I've done enough damage. Where's my wand? I look at Vecchio, pleading, but he doesn't hear what I'm trying to say. I can't form the words on my lips. 

One word. There's one word I have to say.

“Ray,” I say, and it's a whistle. Vecchio looks at me, and it's such a look. Such compassion. He knows he's not the Ray I'm asking for. 

“It's all right, Benny,” he says, and I can just about hang on to that. “He's okay. He's gonna be okay.”

Vecchio never lied to me. I remember lying to him, oh God. I'm going to die, and I'll never be able to explain it, never be able to tell him I'm sorry...

I'm in an ambulance now, and Vecchio's not with me any more. Ray's not with me. I'm surrounded, I'm surrounded, and I don't know who any of these people are. No. No. No. Don't take me to hospital, just let me bleed.

There's a woman leaning over me, flashing a light into my eye. She's the last thing I see before it's all too much. Dark. Blessed dark. Oh, sleep.  
…  
…

What the fuck? I'm having another what the fuck moment. Seems to be happening a lot these days...

“Where am I?” I sit up, stare around me. I don't remember getting here.

“Detective Kowalski, do you know where you are?”

“I just said I didn't. How the hell would I know where I am? I just woke up for fuck's sake. You tell me where I am.”

She sighs, whoever she is. “You're in hospital...”

“Yeah, I can see that now,” I say, taking in my surroundings. “What am I doing in hospital?”

“What do you remember of the incident?”

“Incident?” I blink, bewildered, and for a moment, for a moment there are impossible things in my head. “Jesus,” I say, and stare at her. “What happened to Fraser?”

“Constable Fraser,” she says, “your partner? What do you remember about that?”

What I remember doesn't make sense. I had it, in a green flash, for a moment, but... No. It's gone. Something ugly, and horrible, and...

Shit. Something bad happened to Fraser, and I don't know what. “I don't know,” I say, and I'm shaking, because I don't know, but I should, and it's bad, it's bad...

“Your partner has been shot. You must have seen something, we found you lying right next to him...”

“Shot?” I'm up out of the bed and hanging onto the side rail, looking for my clothes. Shit, my ass is hanging out of a hospital gown, and I've got to go find Fraser. “What the fuck happened? Is he okay? Is he gonna be okay?”

“Constable Fraser is in surgery right now,” she says, “we won't know for several hours...”

“What happened,” I ask again, even though I know the question makes no damned sense, because if I don't know she sure as hell aint gonna have a clue. 

She puts her arm on my hand, gently. “Sit down, Detective Kowalski,” she says. “You won't help your partner by making yourself ill. Just sit down, and let me examine you.”

I sit back down on the bed, heavily, and lean my head into my hands. Oh shit... Fraser. For an instant I have a picture of us together, up against a tree. It's raining, and I have my arms around him, and he's got his arms around me and...

I've been dreaming. I've been dreaming. Something that perfect never happened.

Fuck. I'm crying, snot and tears dripping from my nose. The doctor's still talking, but I zone out, don't want to hear her. I just want Fraser. I just want him.


	8. Te libero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vecchio helps Benny to let go.

The pain is still there when I reawaken, but it's faded to a tolerable distance. It's still excruciating but... No. Not excruciating. Don't use that word, ever again, if you don't mean it. From the Latin, excruciare, to crucify... 

She... she crucified me. I knew she hated me, but I never could have guessed that she hated me so much. I breathe as well as I'm able, and try to banish the memory, but I know already that I will never succeed. I'll carry this to my grave. My only consolation is that it was me instead of Ray.

Ray.

“Ah,” I open my eyes with a cry, and sit up. Damn, that hurts. There's plastic on my face, something over my mouth. What now, is someone trying to smother me?

No. It's a mask, air coming through a mask. My hand is to my injured chest, and I shouldn't have sat up so fast, I'm burning, but... Ray.

I say his name, and next to me I see a silhouette moving. Ray. It's Renfield's Ray. Ray Vecchio. My good, my faithful friend. And it hits me again, I lied to him. I lied to him, and he responded with a truth. I know he is true. He told me... he told me that my Ray would be all right.

Still, I ask him. This time I can talk, with effort. It surprises me how much I'm hurting, and how much it doesn't matter that I hurt. 

“Ray,” I ask, and the words are muffled against the mask. “Is Ray all right?”

“Yes,” he says, “he's just been released. He wasn't injured...” He looks embarrassed. “It was just me. I had to obliviate him.” He pulls a face, and I realise he's trying to smile, to make a joke. “Again. You know, we're gonna have to throw a party when he hits a round hundred.”

I lie back down, wincing, hand pressing tight against my chest. My eyes drift shut, and I hear myself whispering. “Thank God.”  
…  
...  
When I wake again, Ray Vecchio is still there. I don't think I was out for long. I turn my head on the pillow, and smile at him. Then I remember my wand. I lift my right hand, draw it into a straight line, point my index and middle fingers. I cannot say the words right now, have to make the sign instead. He understands.

“Don't worry, Benny, I've got your wand safe.”

I drop my arm back to my side, and smile. Then I'm out again.  
…  
…

The next time I awaken, he's asleep. The light has changed outside, and I don't know how much time has past. I look at my left arm, and am surprised to see tubes in it. The scars and bruises from Victoria are fading. I swallow drily, hating the sight of them, what they represent. I look up at the bags hanging on the stand. Some kinds of liquids and fluids. One of the bags is red. Blood, I realise, shocked. They're giving me blood. I'm still breathing through a mask, and... the dull ache of the wound feels funny. This isn't right. It doesn't feel like a spell, but... I realise suddenly they've drugged me. Oh Lord, good Lord... I try to sit up, knock up against something. There's a tray next to me, and it goes clattering to the floor. Ray wakes with a start, wand out, pale as a ghost, green eyes almost black in his head. He's watching me, warily.

“Hey, Benny,” and he sounds calm, “you're okay, I got you.”

I'm clawing at the tubes in my left arm, feverishly, and then the blankets are rucked up, and I see a tube coming from my groin, and I go for that instead, and he grabs my wrists, holds on tight. “Benny, Benny,” he says, patient, persistent, “you need them. You can't pull them out. You got an infection, antibiotics, you need the antibiotics.”

I stare up at him. Does he not understand? “What's this?" I say, "this thing..."

He looks so compassionate, it hurts. "It's a catheter bag, that's all. Just till you're well enough to have it out."

"But they, they put something else in me,” I say, “I think they've drugged me...”

“Morphine,” he says, “for the pain.”

“I don't want it.”

“You have to have it,” he says, “just for a little while. It got really bad.”

I have no memory of that. 

“What am I doing in a muggle hospital,” I ask, and I'm breathless. There's a crackle in my lungs, but I have to speak. “I could... what happens if I have a nightmare and...” I imagine myself lashing out magically at innocent nurses or orderlies. I imagine the damage I could do.

“Don't worry Benny, that's why I'm here. I'll look after you. I'll look after them.”

“But... I need to be treated by doctors, wizard doctors,” I say, “I'm not safe in a muggle hospital, they're not safe.”

“You're safe enough,” he says. It hits me again, just how tired he looks. A sad expression flits across his face, and he sits back down, still holding my hand. “Believe me, the way things are at the moment, you wouldn't be safe in a magical hospital.”

“The war,” I say, “the war is going badly?”

He gives me a measuring assessment, as though he is trying to ascertain if I'm strong enough to take the news. Perhaps I look better than I feel, or perhaps things are so bad that he has to tell me. I see the moment of decision. He nods to himself, then looks at me, with a grim expression. “Canada,” he says, “Canada has fallen. And... I don't think America will be far behind.”

Oh. I close my eyes, sick at heart, and feel my body spike with heat, feel myself sicken and drift. Try to pull myself back awake again. It's either the shock, or the morphine, or maybe I'm still sick, but I'm drowning in the dark. Canada has fallen, while I've been distracted with Victoria. I should have been there, I should have been with Vecchio and Turnbull, on the front line. And instead I...

I open my eyes, and he's still there. “I'm sorry,” I whisper, and then I'm out.  
…  
...

When I next awaken it is clearly morning. The mask is off, and I'm breathing unassisted. A nurse is bustling next to me, and when she sees me open my eyes she smiles. “Nice to see you awake, sleepy head. Are you going to be a good boy and do your exercises?” 

There's a bizarre moment when I wonder how she knows I'm a child again, to be speaking to me like that. Then I realise that it's just her manner, and I'm not a child, I'm a man. She grates me. I hear my answer, and cringe at how snippy I sound. “I don't want to,” I say, like a sulking six year old.

“You've got to,” she says, “if you want to get well.”

I glare at her, and turn my head away. She sighs. “You're one of those, then. Come on. You've got a choice. Do your exercises and get well, or don't do them, and risk getting pneumonia again and dying.”

“If you put it like that,” I grumble, and push myself, painfully upright. She nods approval, and begins the process of torturing me.

“Good boy,” she says, cheerfully, when we're done. I'm sweating, and breathing hard, but I've gained her approval. “I'll be back tomorrow.”

“Wonderful,” I mutter.

“You've earned your breakfast.”

I look at it, and... good Lord, it's ghastly. She bustles from the room, and I sink back on the pillows. As the door shuts Ray shivers back into sight. He's grinning. His famous Cheshire cat impersonation. “Sorry,” he says, “I had to hide. They're strict about visiting hours here. If they saw I was here all the damned time it would just cause problems.”

I look at him. What does he mean, he was here 'all the damned time?' Has he been sitting by my bedside, making himself invisible when the muggles walk in, all this time? Watching over me like an Armani wearing guardian angel? “Don't you have more important things to do?”

“Hey, don't worry Benny.”

"How do you pee," I ask irrelevantly, then shake my head at my own stupid question. “The war,” I say, “you need to be helping Turnbull, you need to be fighting...”

“Believe me,” he says, “we're fighting. But if we're gonna win this thing we'll need every soldier we can get. So you gotta get well. Capiche? 

I can't help but smile. He seems so normal, flashing his Italian on me, as though I was family. As though I hadn't...

He sees my face change, and pulls his chair closer to my bed. “Hey, Benny,” he says, “don't feel bad. I'm just gonna be here till you're well enough to look after yourself.”

I look at him. “How do you know you can trust me?”

He drops his gaze, says nothing, and I realise that he doesn't know he can trust me. He simply hopes.

There's only one solution to this mess. He asked me once before, and I said no. If I thought it would hurt me then, how much more is it going to hurt now? Not just me, both of us. But it has to be done, and it has to be done right. If anyone is ever to trust me again, if I'm ever to trust myself again. He's going to have to dig deep, ten years deep. He has to see everything. Because, there are things I can't see, that I can't bear to look at. I need other eyes. And I trust him. I trust him to do what has to be done, even if I start to fight it.

“Legilimens,” I whisper.

“Are you sure?” For a second he looks almost as alarmed as I do, and he doesn't yet know how very deep it goes.

“Yes. We have to do it.”

“Are you strong enough?”

“I have to be.”

“All right,” he mutters like a man conceding defeat, and draws out his wand. He looks at the door, at the window. “I'll put wards up, keep intruders out.”

“You need someone,” I say, reluctantly, “someone you can trust.”

“Why?” He gives me the calmest look, as though there was nothing to be scared of at all.

“In case it takes a long time.”

“That bad, huh?”

I nod. “I'm sorry. Truly, I'm sorry.” I look him square in the eye. Trying my hardest to be honest. “It goes back,” I swallow hard. “It goes back a long way.”  
…  
…

Before we start we make a deal. He insists I eat, I insist he sleeps, just for a brief while. He pulls up the pillows, props me in a semi recumbent position on the bed. I try not to flinch too much. It seems redundant, because soon he will be in my head, and know how much everything hurts, but for now I want to spare him such concerns. He puts an arm around me, and helps me with the food. I'm shocked by how weak I am, and moved nearly to tears by his tenderness. He helps me hold the spoon steady so I can get the hateful jello down.

“Good boy,” he says, faking the nurse's voice, and I surprise myself by sticking my tongue out at him. He smiles, and shifts the pillows again, helps me get comfortable. 

“Thank you.”

“Any time, Benny, any time.” He sits back on his chair, and tilts his head against the rest. “I'll just doze,” he says. “Just a few minutes...”

I let him sleep an hour. I would have given him longer, but the door swings open, and a woman comes in, backward, dragging a cleaning trolley in her wake. He comes to with a jerk, and vanishes just in time. The woman turns around, smiles at me, says something in an accent I don't understand. I smile back, as though I knew what she was saying, and she laughs, gives me the thumbs up, and leaves.

“That was close,” Ray says, as he comes back into sight. “Jeez, Benny,” he glances at the clock, “you shouldn't have given me so long.”

“I thought you would need it.”

“Yeah, well, that wasn't the deal.” 

“You mother me,” I say, “I mother you.”

“Oh hell, you're as bad as Ren,” he laughs.

“When is he getting here?”

He sobers up, as swiftly as he laughed. “When I call him.” He looks at the door, the window, pulls a regretful face. “Now.”

I close my eyes and try to still my breathing. In the silence I hear the pop of apparition, and I know without looking that the two men are embracing. I give them privacy, and think of my Ray. His arms around me, and his hand curved around my head. Rain, and the smell of his aftershave, and the longing for a kiss...

They're talking, their voices low, casting protection round the room. Nobody can come in or out, and nobody outside will hear a thing. Finally, the time has come.

“Benny,” Ray says, “we're ready.”

I open my eyes, and there they both are. Turnbull, in his uniform, looking so utterly normal. Professional, kind, calm. He gives me a smile, and I duck my head. I don't know what to say. Ray is standing next to him, still looking weary, but happier somehow, stronger, for having his man in the room. 

I know that it's time, and try to pull myself up. Ray shakes his head. “Don't worry Ben, you don't have to do anything. Just... relax. I'll be as gentle as I can.”

“I know,” I whisper, looking at him. I can't help it. I'm scared. If he is, he's not showing it. He's got his professional mask on, and draws out his wand.

Oh God, I think, and close my eyes.

“Legilimens,” he whispers, and...

He's kind, but he's confused, there's such a lot of mess in here. I didn't realise how much mess. I'm trying to clear a path for him, but I can't think... I can't think... I don't know how to do it. I realise I'm resisting, but I can't seem to help myself. I'm trying to distract him, I even make a stupid joke. “It's like my sister's bedroom, when she was a teenager,” I say, and I'm talking out loud, because if I allow myself to think it's easier for him to do this.

I wanted him to do this, didn't I?

Oh God, sorry, Ray... I'm sorry. I feel my hands grasping the sheets, and open my mouth, suck in breath, and my chest is hurting again. Breathe, I tell myself, breathe. Try to relax. He can tell that I'm trying, and he's patient. I start to settle, and there's that drift, that sideways float out on the water, like a petal on a stream, and he's in.

Oh, oh, oh God, no, he's in. I start to panic again, he's backstage, and I hadn't realised just how much of my mind was scenery, was just window dressing, for show. Mountie, Auror, me. Oh God, no, he's going to see who I really am, and I don't even want to see that.

There's a horrid flash, and the wrong memory rises, bubbles up like a belch of swamp gas. He doesn't need to see this, I don't need to see this...

My mother's dead, and I did nothing to save her. I'm lying next to her, and her eyes are open, and they're dusty... there's dust on her eyes...

Oh shit, who's making that noise? I don't know if it's me or Ray. It's me. It's me. I'm shouting my throat raw. “Get out,” I'm saying, “get out, get out...”

He backs off, and I can tell that he's shaking. He didn't need to see this...

“I'm sorry, Ben,” he's saying, in my head, and someone's holding my hand. Not Ray, Turnbull. For a moment I see the room I'm lying in, and Turnbull's sitting by me, impervious except for his eyes, and he's holding my hand, and looking at Ray, and Ray...

Ray's just standing there. Auror. He's my friend. I feel myself drift again, allow myself to drift. He's not trying to hurt me. I knew that this would hurt.

There's a long moment, like a breath. I realise, as Ray waits for me, that nothing else that he sees in here, not the shadow of the Dementors, nothing that I've done to Victoria, nothing that she's done to me... Nothing is going to be as bad as what we've just seen together. He stood with me through that, and I'm still here. Whatever we see now, we'll see together. And it will hurt. It will hurt. But when we're done, I'll be free.  
…  
…

I wake, again, and Turnbull's still with us. Ray is sleeping, curled up on his chair. I know now that his back and neck have been aching for days. I look at Turnbull. “Did he tell you,” I say, and my voice and lungs are like sandpaper, “did he tell you that his back was sore?”

“No,” Turnbull says, and gives his little crescent smile. “But I know anyway.”

Of course he does.

I feel around in my head, and everything's still there, but it's as though there's more space. Less cramp, less clutter. “What happened,” I ask, embarrassed. I try to make a joke of it. “I hope I didn't make too much of a fool of myself.”

“You conducted yourself with dignity,” Turnbull says, and I cringe, because now I remember screaming. 

“I didn't hurt him too much, did I?”

“He's an Auror,” Turnbull replies stiffly, defending Ray's honour. “He's trained for this.”

“I know, I'm sorry... I didn't mean to imply...”

“No,” Turnbull gives a little tilt of his head, and looks at me kindly. “I'm sorry. Rest assured. You both did well.”

I feel my brows pucker. The memories are beginning to clarify, with less pain than I could have imagined. Suddenly I see a memory that I never knew I had. I gasp at it, but even as I do so I realise that I should never have been surprised.

She did, she did put a spell on me. Not a love spell. I would have loved her anyway. But a... a bewilderment. A tangle, a blindness. When we were together, twinned in the womb of snow, her fingers in my mouth, and her chanting a poem.

Not a poem. A spell.

Oh. At once I feel betrayed and released. Betrayed, because I still love her, released because... all my confusion, all my betrayal and neglect of my friends, of Dief, of my nation... it wasn't entirely my fault. Something tight and cold is unclenching in my heart, and I realise that Ray has expended his energy, not just reading my mind, but unravelling the net that she bound around me.

I look at the man as he sleeps, and I think to myself, I never deserved such a friend.  
…  
…

Finally, one last time, I awaken, and this time Turnbull has gone. I am rested, and peaceful, and happy now... a real, sane happiness, not the vivid high that she poured into me on our last night. It's a beautiful feeling, as though I am standing on a mountain on a clear day, and can see for miles.

Ray is awake also, standing at the window, patting his pockets. He scratches the bald patch on the back of his head, and yawns. Not the gaping yawn of groaning exhaustion, but a morning yawn, a stretching. He's waking up from a good sleep. I smile. He deserves it.

“Good morning, Ray,” I say. My voice is still sore, but like everything else, it will mend.

He turns, and grins. A true and happy smile. “Hey, Benny,” he says, “feeling better?”

“Yes,” I reply. “Thank you.”

“Listen, I'm sorry, but you know I've got to go.”

I bite the tip of my tongue behind my lips. I'm anxious about that, but don't want him to realise. He looks at me, knowingly, and I make a clucking noise. It might be some time before either of us can hide anything from each other. I realise that he knows all about my love for Ray Kowalski, that he knows more about my mother than I choose, even now, to remember, that he knows all my indiscretions, and failures, and shames. And... it doesn't matter. I trust him. He's my friend.

“Yes,” I say. “There's a war to win.”

“Yeah,” he leans his back against the wall. “And you know, just... get better Benny.” He grins again. “Get better, and help us save some lives.”

“Will do,” I say, and sketch a salute. My arm's still weak, so it's uncharacteristically sloppy, but for all that I mean it sincerely.

“Hey, I got something for you,” he says, “you're ready now.”

I look at him, and raise an eyebrow.

He holds out my wand. I look at it, mahogany coloured, near black, a band of silver near the tip. Within it's core, the long and golden hair of an ancestor of Dief's. 

“Thank you,” I whisper, and take it. It's less smooth than most wands, still showing traces of its bark, little knots and imperfections in the wood that my shaman, Quinn, had left unpolished. He had given me his reservations about the use of magical tools, but made one for me anyway. I turn it in my hand, and look across at my friend.

He can still surprise me. He leans across abruptly, and drops a fraternal kiss on my forehead, pats me on the cheek. “You'll be okay, Benny. You're on the mend. And, we'll drop in to see you, whenever we can.”

“I know.” I smile. “And you'll get the bad guys.”

“Yeah. I'm with Turnbull, and you know what they say. A Mountie always gets his man.”

I laugh at that, and damn the pain in my chest, but it's good to laugh. I tuck my wand under the sheet, knowing that I'm well enough now to keep it hidden from the muggles, knowing that I'm not going to descend into a dangerous delirium, knowing that I'll be up and walking soon.

“Go on, Ray. Save some lives.”

He nods. Smiles. Turns, twists, and is gone.

I close my eyes, and enjoy the peace in my head. Soon, I'll be well enough to join them. Soon, I'll be well enough to fight.


End file.
